I held the ticket in my hand, smiling so wide I couldn't hide it. Kabir bhai had given it to me — a gift I never imagined.
"Karan Aujla... live concert," I whispered, my heart racing.

Everyone around me was laughing, teasing, talking, but I was lost in my own excitement. For them, it was just a trip. For me, it was a dream coming true. His songs had always been my favorite, something I listened to when I was happy, sad, or just alone. And now, I was going to hear him live.

We boarded Aarav bhai private jet, and I sat beside Kabir. My suitcase was tucked near my feet, but my eyes stayed on the ticket. I couldn't stop smiling.

The cabin was glowing softly, everyone chatting and teasing each other. I leaned back, thinking quietly:
"Teen din Goa mein... yeh yaadgar hone wale hain."

I glanced at Reyansh for a second. He was watching me, silent, his expression unreadable. My cheeks warmed, and I quickly looked away, clutching the ticket tighter.

The jet engines roared, and we lifted into the sky. My heart soared with it. Goa was waiting. The concert was waiting. And maybe... something else was waiting too.

The jet touched down smoothly, and when I glanced at my watch, it was already 4:30. My heart fluttered — Goa. The place I had only imagined, now right in front of me.

We all stepped out together, the warm breeze brushing against my face. Cars were waiting, sleek and shining. I sat beside Kabir bhai.

The drive was lively — everyone laughing, teasing, talking about the concert. I leaned against the window, watching palm trees sway and the sky slowly turn golden. My mind kept repeating one thought:
"Tonight... I'll hear Karan Aujla live."

Soon, we reached the penthouse Kabir bhai had bought. It was huge, modern, and glowing with evening light. We all walked in, dragging our suitcases, exploring the rooms with excitement.

But the concert was at 8 pm. Aarav bhai reminded us we needed rest. So, one by one, we went to our rooms. I placed my suitcase neatly, sat on the bed, and closed my eyes for a moment.

The thought of the music, the crowd, the lights — it all made my heart race. Three days in Goa, three days of memories. And tonight, it would begin.

I lay on the bed for a while, trying to rest, but my mind wouldn't stop racing. The thought of the concert kept echoing inside me. I didn't know what the others were doing in their rooms, but I couldn't wait.

I opened my suitcase and started getting ready. My hands trembled with excitement as I picked out my outfit, carefully laying everything on the bed. I wanted to look perfect, to feel the moment completely.

Every second felt precious. I didn't want to miss anything — not the lights, not the crowd, not even the first beat of the music.

As I brushed my hair and adjusted my dress, I whispered to myself:
"Aaj ka din... yaadgar banega."

I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. For me, this wasn't just a concert. It was a dream coming alive.

I checked the time on my phone — 6:45. My heart skipped. Just a little more than an hour left before the concert. I couldn't sit still anymore.

I stepped out of my room, expecting to see everyone, but the living room was empty. All the doors were closed — everyone was still in their rooms, probably resting.

When we had arrived earlier, they all ate together. I hadn't. My stomach growled softly, reminding me. So I picked up my phone and ordered pasta.

Twenty minutes later, the knock came. I opened the door, took the tray, and placed it on the table. The smell made me smile.

I plugged in my headphones, scrolled to my playlist, and pressed play. Karan Aujla's voice filled my ears. The beats, the lyrics — everything felt alive.

I twirled the fork in the pasta, took a bite, and leaned back. Eating, listening, dreaming. For me, this wasn't just waiting. It was building the moment.

I was enjoying my meal — a plate of creamy white sauce pasta and a chilled mojito. The Coca‑Cola can was kept aside; I thought I'd drink it later at the concert.

The pasta was perfect, the music in my headphones even better. Karan Aujla's voice filled my ears, and I smiled, twirling the fork, lost in the rhythm.

And then suddenly... this monster appeared. Aarav bhai.

Before I could react, he leaned over and took a big bite from my pasta. My eyes widened.
"Bhai! Yeh mera pasta hai!" I scolded, pulling the plate closer.

He just shrugged, chewing happily.
"Mujhe khana tha," he said casually, and before I could stop him, he took another large bite.

Not only that — he grabbed my mojito and drank it in one go.

My jaw dropped.
"Aarav bhai!" I shouted, jumping up from the sofa.

He laughed, teasing me, and I started running after him, ready to beat him for stealing my food. My headphones dangled, the music still playing, but now it was drowned out by my own laughter and his mischievous grin.

I was still chasing Aarav bhai around the penthouse, my hair messy, my headphones dangling, when suddenly the fight turned into a full‑on battle.

We were kicking, slapping, pulling — I had gripped his hair tightly, refusing to let go. He struggled, trying to free himself, and then his hand reached for my hair too.

"Chhodo mera pasta khane wale chor!" I shouted, tugging harder.

He laughed, even while trying to escape, and suddenly broke free, running across the hall. I ran behind him, not because of the pasta or the mojito anymore — but because he had ruined my hair.

My footsteps echoed, his laughter bounced off the walls, and just as I was about to catch him again, a sharp voice cut through the chaos.

"Ruko tum dono!" Priya bhabhi shouted from the doorway, her eyes wide with shock.

We froze mid‑run, my hand still half‑raised, Aarav bhai still grinning like a mischievous child. The room fell silent, except for my heavy breathing and the faint sound of Aujla's song still playing from my dangling headphones.

I knew it. There was no way both of us could escape from Priya bhabhi's scolding. Aarav bhai was still laughing, his hair messy from my grip, and I was breathing hard, my own hair ruined.

Then an idea sparked in my mind. I ran straight towards bhabhi, my eyes wide, and before she could say anything, I started crying — crocodile tears, of course.

"Bhabhi... bhai ne mera pasta kha liya! Meri drink bhi pi li! Aur dekhiye... mere baal bhi kharab kar diye!"

I sniffled loudly, clutching my hair for effect, making my face look as pitiful as possible.

Priya bhabhi's eyes widened, her hands on her hips. Aarav bhai froze, his grin fading as he realized what I had done.

I wiped my fake tears quickly, but then I noticed — one by one, the doors opened. Everyone had come out of their rooms, curious about the noise.

My heart leapt. This was my chance. I took a deep breath, clutched my hair for effect, and started crying even louder.

"Bhabhi dekho! Bhai ne mujhe maara bhi hai! Aur ab has bhi rahe hain. Maine kaha tha mai aapko bata dungi... toh kha, mai nahi darta aapse!"

The room fell silent for a moment. All eyes were on me. My voice echoed dramatically, my tears flowing like a perfect performance.

I glanced at Aarav bhai. His grin had completely disappeared. His eyes widened, and for the first time, I saw fear flicker across his face.

Everyone else? They were half‑shocked, half‑amused. Some were trying not to laugh, others were waiting to see what Priya bhabhi would do next.

And me? I knew I had won this round.

I was still hugging Priya bhabhi tightly, my face buried against her shoulder, pretending to cry harder. But then, slowly, I lifted my head and looked toward Aarav bhai.

He was standing there, his hair messy, his grin completely gone. His eyes were wide, nervous, waiting for bhabhi's reaction.

And that's when I did it. I let the tears fade, my lips curved into a sly smile. I kept hugging bhabhi, but my eyes locked on him, shining with mischief.

I smiled at him — not sweetly, but with the satisfaction of knowing I had won.

Aarav bhai's face changed instantly. That fear in his eyes grew stronger, because he knew exactly what my smile meant: ab bachna mushkil hai.

He panicked immediately.
"Nahi biwi ji, yeh jhut bol rahi hai! Dekho, kaise evil ki tarah smile kar rahi hai!" he blurted out, pointing at me.

Priya bhabhi turned her gaze toward me. I quickly wiped the smile away and let fresh tears roll down my cheeks, making my face look innocent again.

Bhabhi's expression softened. She stroked my hair gently and said:
"Koi nahi, shona. Tum pehle apna pasta kha lo. Uske baad main tumhe ready karungi. Aur tumhare bhai ko toh main batati hoon... dekhna, pure concert mein ye hum dono ke bags hold karenge."

Priya bhabhi walked over to the sofa, picked up my phone, and handed it back to me with a gentle smile. I hugged her tighter, feeling safe in her arms.

Then she turned toward Aarav bhai. Before he could escape, she grabbed his ear firmly.
"Ahhh biwi ji, chhod do baby! Yeh ladki jhut bolti hai!" he cried out, trying to wriggle free.

But bhabhi's eyes were sharp.
"Mujhe pata hai kaun jhut bol raha hai aur kaun sach. Tum zara chalo mere saath kamre mein."

Still holding his ear, she dragged him toward their room. The door closed behind them, leaving me alone in the hall.

I couldn't help it — I burst out laughing. Victory tasted sweeter than pasta.

I opened my playlist, pressed play on my favorite Aujla track, and started dancing around the room, twirling happily. My laughter mixed with the music as I finally returned to my plate of creamy white sauce pasta.

This time, no one was going to steal it.

I was still laughing to myself when I noticed — everyone was standing there, watching me. Their eyes followed every move, waiting to see what I would do next.

But I didn't show any emotion. I kept my face calm, almost serious, and started walking toward my room, softly singing along with Aujla's song still playing in my headphones.

As I reached the stairs, I paused. Slowly, I turned back to look at them. All of them were still staring, curious, amused, maybe even a little shocked.

I let a mischievous smile curl on my lips, tilted my head slightly, and gave them a quick wink.

Then, without saying a word, I turned back and continued up the stairs, my laughter hidden behind the music, my victory complete.

After some time, I came back downstairs. Everyone was ready now, and we all sat in the car, excitement buzzing in the air. The drive felt magical — lights flashing outside, laughter inside. My heart was beating faster with every passing minute.

When we reached the venue, we walked straight into the VIP area. From there, I could see the stage clearly. The crowd was massive, the energy electric, and the lights danced across the hall.

And then... the concert started.

The moment Karan Aujla stepped on stage, the entire place erupted. The beats hit, the crowd roared, and I forgot everything — my cousins, the drama, even Aarav bhai's pasta theft.

I was singing, dancing, moving with the rhythm. My voice blended with thousands of others, but in my heart, it felt like it was just me and his music.

I was so happy — truly, deeply happy. For those moments, nothing else mattered.

We didn't even realize how quickly time had passed. The concert had carried us away completely, and when it finally ended, it was almost 12 a.m.

We all walked out together, the night air cool against our faces. Everyone looked exhausted — their shoulders heavy, their eyes sleepy. But me? I wasn't tired at all. My heart was still racing with the beats, my voice still humming the songs.

I looked at their faces, all showing the same thing: rest. And then Karan teased me, laughing:
"Aroohi, tum bilkul bhi nahi thaki? Tum toh sabse zyada chilla rahi thi!"

I flipped my hair dramatically, smirked, and replied:
"Talent, baby."

Everyone burst out laughing, their tiredness forgotten for a moment.

We headed to a restaurant, ate together, still buzzing with the concert's energy. Then we returned home, the penthouse quiet and glowing under the night lights. One by one, everyone went to their rooms.

I walked into mine, finally lay down, and closed my eyes. The music still echoed in my head, and a smile lingered on my lips as sleep pulled me in.

The plane touched down in Goa, and by 4:30 we were already moving toward Kabir bhai's penthouse. Everyone was excited, but once we reached, we all went to our rooms to rest before the big night.

Later, I came downstairs with Riya, Karan, Vikram, Vihaan, Vanya, Ishita, Arjun, and Kabir. As we reached the hall, we heard noise — loud voices, crying. Curious, we followed the sound.

And there she was. Aroohi, my baby. Hugging Priya bhabhi, crying as if the world had ended. She said Aarav had eaten her pasta, drunk her drink, and even beaten her.

But when I looked closely, I saw it — her face wasn't sad. She was smiling at Aarav bhai, mischief in her eyes. Aarav complained to bhabhi, saying she was lying, and instantly she switched back to crying again. That's when I knew... my jaan was playing her drama perfectly.

Priya bhabhi dragged Aarav into the room by his ear, and the door closed behind them. Aroohi, meanwhile, started her playlist, singing Aujla's songs while happily eating her pasta again.

Then she looked at us. No reaction, no words. She simply started walking upstairs, singing softly. At the stairs, she paused, turned back, gave us a smile and a quick wink, and disappeared into her room.

Everyone burst out laughing at her drama. Everyone except me. I didn't laugh. I only smiled — quietly, to myself.

The drive to the concert was filled with laughter and teasing, but inside me there was only one thought — tonight, I would see her in her happiest form.

We reached the VIP section, the lights already flashing, the crowd roaring. From where I stood, the stage was clear, but my eyes kept drifting to her. Aroohi.

The moment the concert began, she transformed. She wasn't just singing — she was screaming every lyric, dancing with abandon, her smile brighter than the spotlights. I watched her, forgetting the music for a moment, because her joy was louder than any beat.

Hours passed without us realizing. When the concert finally ended, it was almost 12 a.m. Everyone looked drained, their faces heavy with exhaustion. But she? She was still glowing, her energy untouched.

Karan teased her:
"Aroohi, tum bilkul bhi nahi thaki? Tum toh sabse zyada chilla rahi thi!"

She flipped her hair, smirked, and replied:
"Talent, baby."

Everyone laughed. I didn't. I just smiled quietly, because I knew — that spark in her wasn't just talent. It was something deeper, something that made her different.

At the restaurant, she was still humming, still smiling. And when we returned home, everyone dragged themselves to their rooms. I followed too, but before closing my door, I caught one last glimpse of her disappearing into hers.

She wasn't exhausted. She was alive. And I realized — maybe that's why I couldn't take my eyes off her all night.

The next morning in Goa was bright and alive. We all spent the day visiting different places — beaches, markets, and little cafés. Everyone was laughing, clicking pictures, enjoying the trip.

But my eyes kept finding her. Aroohi. Every time I saw her smile, every time her hair danced in the breeze, something inside me stirred.

Finally, I couldn't hold it back anymore. I walked toward her. She looked at me, surprised, her eyes curious.

I took a breath and said softly:
"Rooh... can you come with me on a date?"

Her eyes widened, shock flashing across her face. For a moment, she just stared at me. Then slowly, she nodded her head.

"Kab?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

I smiled, steady and sure.
"Today. At 7 p.m. Be ready. We'll go."

She blinked, still surprised, but there was a faint smile tugging at her lips. And in that moment, I knew — tonight would be ours.

When I came into my room, the first thing I did was open my wardrobe. My heart was racing — tonight wasn't just any night. Tonight, I was taking Aroohi out on a date.

I started checking outfits one by one, holding shirts against myself in the mirror, imagining how they would look beside her. I wanted to be perfect, not just well‑dressed, but someone she would look at and smile.

Every detail mattered — the watch, the shoes, even the way my hair sat. I tried different combinations, pacing the room, my mind running faster than my hands.

After some time, I finally settled on the outfit that felt right. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusted my collar, and smiled faintly.

I was ready. Ready to meet her, ready to make this night unforgettable.

I was waiting outside, my heart beating faster with every passing minute. The evening air in Goa was warm, the sky painted with fading colors of sunset. I kept adjusting my watch, my collar, trying to look calm — but inside, I was restless.

And then... she came.

The moment Aroohi stepped out, everything around me blurred. The lights, the noise, even the people — they all disappeared. My eyes could only see her.

She was looking so beautiful, so effortlessly stunning, that for a second I forgot to breathe. Her walk had a rhythm, her smile had a spark, and the way she carried herself... it was magnetic.

Sexy, confident, radiant — she was all of it at once.

She walked toward me, every step pulling me deeper into her world. I was still lost, staring at her, when she softly called my name.

That voice snapped me back into reality. But I paused, curious, and asked:
"Rooh... what did you just call me?"

She looked at me, a little nervous, and replied:
"Ansh. Did you not like it? No problem, I won't call you this again."

Something inside me stirred. I couldn't let her think that. I stepped closer, my hand sliding around her waist, pulling her gently toward me. Her body tensed, her cheeks flushed red — she was blushing so hard she could beat even a tomato in a competition.

I looked into her honey‑brown eyes, the kind that could drown me without mercy. Slowly, I brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, leaning closer.

Whispering, I said:
"No... I didn't like it. I loved it. And only you can call me this, jaan."

Her eyes widened, her lips parted slightly in shock. For a moment, time froze. I wanted to kiss her senselessly, to make her forget everything — even her own name — so that she remembered only me.

I loosened my hold on her waist, knowing she wasn't ready yet. Instead, I gently took her hand in mine and led her toward the car. Opening the door, I made her sit inside carefully, then walked around and sat beside her.

The engine started, the road stretched ahead, and for a minute there was silence. Just the sound of the tires rolling and her soft breathing beside me.

Then she turned, her voice curious:
"Ansh... where are we going?"

I smiled, keeping my eyes on the road.
"This is a surprise."

She made a little pout, her lips curving adorably. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I glanced at her and said softly:
"Jaan... don't do this."

Her brows furrowed in confusion.
"Kya?"

I exhaled, my voice low, almost a whisper.
"Don't pout... I'm losing my control."

Her cheeks flushed instantly, her blush spreading like fire. She quickly turned her face toward the window, hiding her smile, looking out at the passing lights.

And me? I just kept driving, my heart racing faster than the car itself.

She turned to me, her voice soft but playful:
"Ansh... can I play music?"

I smiled, glancing at her.
"No need to take permission, jaan. You can do anything."

I tapped the screen, and the song began — "Kyunki tum hi ho..." The melody filled the car, and her eyes widened instantly. She looked at me, surprised, her honey‑brown eyes glowing in the dim light. I couldn't help but smile at her reaction.

She shook her head, teasing:
"Your playlist is boring. I'll choose."

I chuckled, my voice low and warm.
"Okay... you can change it. Make it yours."

She leaned forward, scrolling through, changing the track to her own playlist. The car filled with her music, her vibe, her world.

And me? I just kept driving, stealing glances at her, thinking how even the simplest moments with her felt like magic.

I stopped the car, turned to her, and said softly:
"We've reached."

Her eyes lit up with excitement. She was about to open the door when I held her hand gently. She looked at me, confused, and I whispered:
"It's a surprise... you have to be blindfolded."

I tied the blindfold carefully, then stepped out, opened her door, and helped her out.

My bacha asked cutely, her voice full of innocence:
"Ansh... then how will I go?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I slid my arms around her and lifted her in bridal style. She gasped, her hands flying to my shoulder, holding on tightly.

She complained softly, her voice trembling:
"You could've told me before holding me... what if I fell and got hurt?"

I looked into her face, smiling, and replied:
"Jaan... I will never let you fall."

I started walking, her weight resting perfectly in my arms. When I glanced at her, she looked so cute, so delicate, that I knew — even if I could let her walk on her own, I wouldn't.

Because this moment, holding her close, feeling her fit perfectly against me, was something I would never want to miss.

And right there, I promised myself: I will never let her go.

After walking for some time with her in my arms, I finally set her down gently. She barely reached my shoulders, and I couldn't help but shake my head with a smile, thinking to myself: You're really a child... but my child.

I untied the blindfold slowly. As the cloth slipped away, her honey‑brown eyes widened. She looked around, and her gaze sparkled like the stars above. The soft glow of candles, the sound of waves crashing against the shore, the table set perfectly by the beach — it was all waiting for her.

I asked softly, almost nervous:
"Did you like it, Rooh?"

She turned to me, her face glowing, and suddenly hugged me tightly.
"Like it, Ansh? I loved it."

For a moment, I was shocked, frozen by her words and her warmth. Then I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close, feeling her heartbeat against mine.

The beachside candlelight dinner I had organized wasn't just a surprise anymore — it had become a memory I knew I would carry forever.

The moment she realized what she had done, she stepped back quickly, whispering a soft "Sorry..." Her eyes dropped, guilt flickering across her face.

I cupped her cheeks gently, tilting her face up toward me.
"No need to feel sorry, jaan. You can do anything... hug me, slap me, anything."

But inside my mind, the truth was louder: Jaan, you can kiss me... and so much more. The thought burned through me, and I knew I would need a cold shower tonight just to calm myself.

I pulled out the chair for her, guiding her to sit. She looked so delicate, so perfect in the glow of the candles. When she sat down, I took my place across from her.

The waves whispered in the background, the candles flickered between us, and the night felt like it belonged only to us.

She looked around, her eyes sparkling like the stars above.
"Ansh... really, this is so beautiful."

I leaned forward, my voice low and steady, carrying all the truth in my heart.
"Not more than you, jaan."

Her cheeks turned crimson instantly. She hid her face with her hands, whispering shyly:
"Don't say this... I feel embarrassed."

I smiled, watching her every movement, and replied softly:
"You don't realize... but you look so cute while blushing."

The candles flickered between us, the waves whispered in the background, and her blush was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

We started eating, the candles flickering between us, the sound of the waves blending with her laughter. I couldn't resist teasing her.

"Jaan... you look like a pufferfish when you eat."

She froze, her eyes narrowing at me, a spark of anger flashing across her face.

I leaned forward, concerned.
"What happened, Rooh?"

She sighed, her voice sharp but soft.
"Everyone says this to me. I don't like it. If you call me this again, I'll call you Dracula... because you're always angry. And when you speak, it looks like you're releasing fireballs from your mouth."

She stopped suddenly, realizing what she had just said. Her lips parted, her eyes widened, and she looked at me nervously, as if waiting for my reaction.

I sat back, a smile tugging at my lips. Inside, I was amused, but more than that, I was touched. Even in her anger, even in her teasing, she was opening up to me.

And in that moment, I thought — if she calls me Dracula, I'll still love it... because it's her.

I leaned back in my chair, smirking.
"Oh... so I look like Dracula and release fire? Then what are you, Rooh? My angry bird."

Her eyes widened, and I continued, my voice playful but knowing.
"I know when you were crying while hugging Bhabhi... you were doing drama, so she could scold Aarav."

She froze, her lips parting in shock. For a moment, she didn't say anything, realizing I had caught her little act.

I watched her carefully, the candlelight flickering across her blushing face. Inside, I was smiling — because even in her drama, even in her anger, she was mine.

then she lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing just a little.

"Ansh... I wasn't doing drama. Aarav bhai really deserved it."

Her voice trembled, but there was a spark of defiance in it. She crossed her arms, trying to look serious, though her cheeks were still red.

Then she added quickly, almost like a playful jab to cover her embarrassment:
"And anyway... if I'm your angry bird, then you're my Dracula. Always angry, always scaring people with your fireballs."

She stopped, realizing she had said too much again, and bit her lip nervously.

I couldn't help but smile, leaning closer, my voice low and teasing:
"So... my angry bird wants to fight with her Dracula? Jaan, you don't even realize how cute you look when you're trying to defend yourself."

Her blush deepened, and she turned her face away, hiding her smile behind her hand.

She started eating again, her little actions making me smile. I kept watching her, every bite, every blush, every glance. When she finally finished, I noticed something — her plate was almost empty, but the veggies were still lying there untouched.

I frowned slightly, leaning forward.
"Rooh... what is this? You didn't even eat properly. And you left the veggies too."

She looked at me with those wide eyes, her voice rising in defense.
"Ansh I don't like veggies. They taste boring. And I took a large amount of food. It's your thinking that I took small."

I chuckled, shaking my head knowingly.
"Rooh... I know how much you eat. That's why you look like a child."

Her pout returned instantly, her voice sharp but cute.
"Hey! I don't look like any child."

I leaned closer, my tone soft but firm.
"Yes... you're not anyone's child. You're my child."

Before she could argue, I reached across, took her plate, and started eating the leftover veggies she had ignored.

She stood up quickly, her voice panicked.
"No, Ansh! You don't need to eat this... it's my leftover."

I looked at her, smiling, my voice low and teasing.
"Jaan, koi baat nahi. Waise bhi... jhoota khane se pyaar badhta hai."

Her cheeks turned crimson, her eyes dropped, and she blushed harder than ever. She hid her face, but I could see the smile tugging at her lips.

And inside, I thought: If eating her leftovers makes her blush like this... I'll do it every single time.

We left the table, the candles flickering behind us, and stepped onto the soft sand. The sound of the waves crashing gently against the shore filled the silence.

I reached for her hand, and she slipped her fingers into mine. We started walking slowly, side by side, the cool breeze brushing against us.

This moment felt perfect — no drama, no teasing, just us. Her hand fit so naturally in mine, like it was meant to be there. I glanced at her, and she was smiling softly, her eyes glowing under the moonlight.

Inside, I thought: If I could freeze time, it would be now. Walking with her, holding her hand, feeling the world fade away.

The stars above, the ocean beside us, and her presence — it all felt like a dream I never wanted to wake up from.

We sat in the car, driving back towards the penthouse. The silence wasn't heavy — it was warm, filled with the echoes of laughter and the sound of waves still lingering in my mind.

When we reached, she turned to me, her eyes glowing softly.
"Thank you, Ansh... it's my first ever date, and this date will always be special to me."

I looked at her, my heart tightening with emotion.
"No need to thank me, jaan. I already told you... I'm lucky to have you. And I'll always make you feel this way, because you're very special to me."

We stepped out of the car. Just as I was about to walk ahead, she tugged at the sleeve of my shirt, stopping me. I turned, and before I could say anything, she hugged me tightly.

I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close, feeling her heartbeat against mine. When she pulled back, she looked up at me, standing on her tiptoes, her hands gesturing helplessly because she still couldn't reach my height.

I bent down, lowering myself to her level. And then — she pressed a soft kiss on my right cheek.

Before I could even react, she ran off, her voice echoing in the night:
"Thank you, Ansh!"

I stood there, frozen, my hand brushing the spot where she kissed me. My heart raced, my mind replaying the moment again and again.

When I entered my room, I went straight to the bathroom. As I looked into the mirror, my eyes froze — there it was, the faint mark of her lips on my cheek. My heart skipped a beat.

Without thinking, I pulled out my phone and clicked a selfie, wanting to capture this moment forever.

Later, when I lay down on the bed, I couldn't sleep. The scene kept replaying in my mind — her tiptoes, her shy gesture, the warmth of her kiss, and the way she ran off saying "Thank you, Ansh."

My inner voice whispered louder than ever:
"What will happen when she presses those soft lips on mine... or when we go beyond this? Oh, holy shit... my mind is not in my control anymore."

I sat up, restless, my heartbeat racing. The thought of her, the memory of her kiss, the blush on her face — it was all too much.

Finally, I muttered to myself:
"I need a cold shower... right now."

And as the water poured over me, I realized — this wasn't just her first date. It was the beginning of a fire inside me that no amount of cold water could ever truly put out.

stay tuned for next chapter

bye 

lots of love from your

author ikku